


Lead Me Away

by Oliver__Niko



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/pseuds/Oliver__Niko
Summary: The world despises those who are different. Rita is a girl who faced this very hatred, the day her parents abandoned her when she showed her magic.For years, she is alone, until a hand finally reaches out to her.





	Lead Me Away

**Author's Note:**

> For day 26 of Whumptober, 'Abandoned'!
> 
> This one is a couple of days late as my best friend is round at my house, so I've been distracted. I hope you enjoy, however!

I learned from a young age that the world hates those who are different.

No one is the same as each other. They’re idiots for thinking so. Or maybe it’s more that the world’s system is idiotic, that fake smiles and hiding who you truly are is how you survive.

This applies to everything, it seems. Even the tiniest things. But true prejudice lies in the largest differences.

I remember being hidden away a lot as a kid. I was never raised in a particularly wealthy place. In fact, we were closer to being poor. I’ve heard that children in rich families are typically the ones who face this trouble. Yet I was different, for a reason I didn’t know yet.

I never minded the seclusion. I guess I didn’t know much better. When something becomes a regular part of your life from the start, that becomes your norm. I didn’t have friends. But I didn’t need them, either. I sometimes got lonely, but I spent so much time researching that I never truly minded.

I was hidden away like some kind of dark secret. I realise now that it’s because I _had _to be, in their eyes. To protect both them and me.

When I mentioned to them how fascinating I found magic, they were terrified. I didn’t understand why. They took away my books, told me to not look at it again. They said that no one should study such a thing.

I didn’t understand what was so awful about spells and magic. As long as they’re not being used to cause harm to others, what’s so bad about them? Why couldn’t I keep researching? The loneliness started to close in on me for real after that. The thing I was most passionate about was taken away.

I was also uncertain of myself. I felt like _I _was different in some way, that strange, barely noticeable things happened around me. I wondered if I was just imagining it.

Then _that _day arrived, and everything changed.

I can’t exactly remember everything that happened. All I know for sure is that I was angry at them. We were in a fight, and I made the windows smash. Not by actually hitting them myself. They managed to break all on their own. I didn’t know how I managed it, but I knew it was from my anger, and my parents thought the same.

I told them I didn’t mean to do it. Told them that I was sorry. But I had done something I would learn later had always been their biggest fear; I had inherited magic from our ancestors after all.

It’s a taboo topic. I never knew the truth about how the world faces magic, until I had to face the world back. They threw me out of the house to fend for myself in the streets. And children left on their own this way is almost a confirmation of everyone’s biggest fear.

I learned that the world is terrified of magic. That something you might expect to be admired, something that can help others, is seen as a negative thing. They hate it. And that made them hate me, without even knowing anything about me.

It’s as though you’re not even human, when you have magic. Like you’re a _witch _or something. That’s what they sometimes screamed at me anyway, when they threw food and objects at me to make me go away. That’s probably the easiest thing I endured. Those who were less afraid to harm me directly were entirely different.

This is how I lived for years. I scavenged for food, for shelter when possible, fulfilling requests I feel too nauseous to say explicitly in order to get what I needed to survive. There are a few good souls who wish to help. Yet these are always souls who are scared to linger for too long, worried of receiving the same treatment. I can’t blame them.

Their small acts of kindness, their smiles as though I really am just like them after all, were a little hope to push me through. Perhaps I would have simply ended it all long ago without them. But soon, it started to not be enough. Tiny, brief moments where I could feel temporary joy were not enough. No one can live with that alone.

Yet before I could do what I wanted to do, before I really did die after all, someone else came along. I met _her. _And it was like I finally found the light I had been searching for.

She came across me one day, with a smile like the sun, yet mingled with deep sympathy. She spoke with a voice soft enough that I swear, if I had been lying down with her, I would have been lulled straight to sleep.

“_Come with me,” _she said. “_I can help you.”_

I was confused. Some days, I still find myself baffled that she, of all people, had come to me.

I asked her what she meant. And then, silently, she did something which made me question why the entire world is so cruel.

She reached over to my face, where I had a nasty bruise and cut down my cheek from a recent assault. And she healed it. Whilst no one was looking, with her hand alone, the pain and evidence of abuse faded from existence.

She was like me. She could use magic. And not only could she use magic, she had this incredible strength, to heal so easily. I was fascinated. I couldn’t say a word; all I could do was stare at her, my heart blown away by her gentleness, how beautiful her face was when she smiled at me.

She told me she had endured similar before. In a quiet voice, so no one overhears, she summarises her own story as briefly as possible. How she was raised in a rich family, yet cast aside the moment she developed magic. That she too had faced what I have.

I felt more rage for her than I have ever had for myself. After all, my own magic causes destruction. She, on the other hand, can truly help others in a way that I can’t. Why would the world shun something like this? Don’t they realise how much she can help?

Then she tells me this is what she did to save herself. She began to heal those in the shadows, those who cannot seek help from those in the light. Not magic users alone; anyone shunned or a misfit from society.

And she found her place. She found friends, a home, a place she could finally be herself.

She wanted me to be there too.

I didn’t understand at first. I had no doubts of her kindness, that she was telling the truth, for someone who possesses such holy magic couldn’t possibly be like those who have abused me. But I simply had no idea what to say. I’m not used to being helped without giving my entire being, body and soul, in return.

But she was selfless. She didn’t want anything back from me, other than friendship.

So I said yes.

I was introduced to her family. I was taught how to control my powers. And slowly, years later, I find myself healing. I’m still traumatised from everything that’s happened. I think anyone would be like that, if they had to go through what I have.

But a single day, a meeting by chance, is what it took to turn my world upside down.

I will never forget the first smile she gave me. And never have I stopped receiving that smile. She gives me one now, as she hovers above me on the bed, her fingers brushing my hair behind my ears.

I smile back. I hadn’t been able to for a while, but now, it comes to me as easily as loving her does.

I would follow her anywhere, after she lead me out of the dark.


End file.
